Wild Child
by Vicky May
Summary: I'm not afraid of you." I spat. His eyes darkened and he loomed above me, his eyebrows furrowed in a line. "You should be." He thundered dangerously. I grinned cheekily and patted his cheek. "Honey, i've seen cats that are scarier than you. Cheer up!"
1. Unforgotten Memories

**This story is being edited chapter by chapter, so some will look nice and neat while others will look messy and immature. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"Here ya go, kid." The driver rolled his neck to work out the kinks as his hand automatically stretched towards the backseat.

"That'll be forty-three dollars."

Shuffling through my carry-on luggage, I brought out the bright yellow wallet holding all of my American money. The notes were bland in colour, but smelt fresh and clean as I carefully counted out the notes I owed him. He threw back the change with a grunt, and motioned for me to get out.

I opened the car door and was struck by pine and wood smoke – deep, forest sounds and faint laughter. It seemed idyllic, peaceful.

"I haven't got all day, kid."

I ignored him, dragging my two suitcases out of the car and slamming the door. He drove off in a hurry, sending splatters of dirt over my jeans. Scowling, I swung my handbag over my shoulder and grabbed both suitcases, one in each hand, and started towards the front garden.

Louise Redwood. That was the name stamped on my passport, a name I had skirted and hid from for years. When my family died when I was 11, I was put immediately in a foster home, with a couple who weren't ready for parenting, and didn't know how to handle a traumatized pre-teen.

That was before I ran away. Don't get me wrong, they were great people – I still have their address, and one day I'll write to them. But I couldn't bear it anymore – the whispering, the overly cautious way I was treated. I wasn't even treated carefully – I was handled. Handled like a spooked horse, or a crying kitten. I decided one night, listening to my new 'parents' argue, that for the first time in 3 years, I was going to take control of my own fate. So I ran.

It wasn't easy. I often went back to steal food, or sleep while they were out. But then Greg found me, and put me in a place I found much peace in. He owned a car store, and offered me a place to sleep while working full time. He taught me everything I currently know about cars. He bought me a flat and paid the rent, sending me to school too. I asked him once about why he did it, and he slowly stopped what he was doing.

"I've made many mistakes in my life – sins I can never repent. If the only thing I do is give someone a home, a purpose, then I'll die happy." He then grinned and threw a wrench at me.

He died when I was 17, forcing me to take over the shop. Surprisingly, I was a novelty. Not many girls work as a mechanic, and soon I was booming in business. I had to forge a fake passport to proof I was an adult, and a few other papers, but it only taught me to respect the black market – I never cheated anyone out of their money. I began taking dance lessons, enjoying me freedom, my new way of life.

Until the government got involved.

Noting I had escaped from child services for years, they tracked down my legal guardian, which turned out to be people named Sam and Emily Uley, all the way in America.

I was given one week to sort everything out before I was put on a plane.

Emily had sounded nice on the phone when I talked to her in the foster home last week. I was wary though – what would she do with me in a few months' time, when I turned 18?

The drive finally wore out onto grass, and a house came into view. It was a two story grey bricked house with a brown door and a black car out front.

I noted with disappointment they didn't have a big garage. So much for fixing up my bike.

I did have a bike. A Legacy 250 Automatic Cruiser, to be exact.

I finally dropped my bags on the front porch, nervousness stirring the pit of my stomach. This is it, I guess. Go hard or go home. Licking my lips to somehow moisten my suddenly dry mouth, I knocked on the door.

A woman with dark hair answered it. My words caught in my throat as I saw her face. On one side deep, dark scars mutilated her face, making the other beautiful side shine out in stark contrast. I lowered my eyes, focusing on her hands.

I had no right to be staring.

"Good evening." When had I turned so formal? "Is, uh, Emily or Sam Uley here?"

The woman smiled and reached forward, pulling me into a tight embrace. I froze before gingerly hugging back, looking at her quizzically as she beamed at me.

"I'm Emily." She grasped my hand. "Sam is at work at the moment. You must be Louise?"

I nodded and picked up my bags, following her as she gestured me in. What do you say to your new foster parent? Oh, sorry you got saddled with a foreign orphan brat? I apologize for completely uprooting your lives because I couldn't handle the system?

In the end I kept silent, gently refusing her offer of tea. Smiling, she led me upstairs to a room at the end of the hall. It was quite a nice room actually, with wide windows that actually had a balcony seat. I fully appreciated the double bed, and as I looked it over Emily let out a small laugh.

"This is the biggest bedroom. It's not much, but I hope you like it. Maybe you can come down later and we'll talk?"

I wanted to tell her that talking was something I had no interest in doing. But I nodded politely and showed a small smile.

Emily gave me another hug before leaving, closing the door softly behind her. As I stared at the empty room, a familiar urge made itself known to me.

I loved to make things my own. Cars can be forged with your own signature if you knew how, something I intend to learn someday. So I made the room my own, creating a space I felt comfortable in. The clothes and shoes when in first; easy to put away and fold. Next were personal effects – like the old and tattered blanket my mum gave me on my sevenths birthday – I brought it up to my nose and inhaled, a slight cinnamon scent still clinging to the fabric. Next was a guitar stand on the wall, where I proudly hung 'Jerry' for all to see.

After stashing the two now empty suitcases under the bed, I reluctantly opened my carry-on, putting the familiar red pillow on my bed and my toiletries bag on top of my bedside table. As I lifted out a folder filled with foster papers and business contracts from my now sold mechanic shop, a crumpled photograph on the bottom of the bag caught my attention.

With shaking hands I lifted it out, smoothing out the creases hastily across my knee. I sat on the bed as my knees gave, and I traced the smiling faces on the photo, my lips starting to tremble.

It was the last family picture I had of my past. We – my mum, Carlie, Jason and dad – were standing on front of our yacht, laughing at the cameraman. It had been our last holiday to Greece, where we sailed around the Greek islands in dad's yacht.

It was also the week before they died.

I felt sadness surge through me before I could stop it, and I shoved the photograph under my pillow in an effort to squash it.

I haven't seen that picture in years. Neither have I been this close to crying in years.

Pushing back the tears, I stood up and pinched myself. The physical pain brought me sharply back into reality. I turned on my bedside light – night had truly fallen while I unpacked - and checked my reflection in the full length mirror behind the door.

Dark hair. Blue eyes that were still shining with fading tears. And tanned skin, matching the loose beige clothing I wore on the long plane flight here.

Let's hope they weren't expecting someone more.

* * *

The hallway was dark, and I stumbled along unfamiliar ground as I made my way downstairs to the kitchen.

Emily was bustling around the kitchen, with four or five pans cooking different things on a massive stove. Lounging near the door on a chair was Sam Uley - whose face I looked up as being one of respected Elders of the Quileute reservation.

"Louise?" He stood and held his hand out; none of the warmth Emily gave, only business. As I took his hand I frowned. He was burningly hot, scorching even, and his eyes narrowed as he snatched his hand back. He must be running a pretty high fever.

"Are you okay? You seem to be running a fever-"

"Is there any more paperwork to be done?" His voice was sharp.

Something in his voice made me want to cower. I've never felt an urge like it before. No, not an urge. It was more like an _instinct_.

And something in me bristled back in anger. "Yes." I matched his sharp tone. "I have to send back a few things."

He sat back down and opened a nearby newspaper, signaling clearly the conversation was over.

Dinner was an uneventful affair, where Emily and Sam asked me questions about Australia and I answered them as evasively as I could. It had been silent for a while before Sam asked out of the blue, "So, have you got a car?"

I shook my head. "No. A motorcycle. It's been shipped here. Do you guys have a garage nearby? I'll need to fix her up after the flight."

Sam looked surprised. "You can fix engines?"

"My specialty is motorcycles." I finished my meal and took it up to the sink, rinsing it and washing it habitually. Spending time by yourself in a lonely flat made me constantly wash and clean to avoid living in filth.

"Louise, what's that on your hip?"

My hands automatically hitched up my low rise jeans even as I answered back calmly. "Fell on a crowbar at work."

"From what height?" Sam looked disbelieving. "It looks like a pretty big scar."

"It's also from a long time ago, so no big deal. It's fine." I wiped my hands on my shirt, forcing my feet to move. "May I be excused?"

A long silence greeted my question. Sam was staring hard at me, looking for some sort of doubt, while Emily looked worried, hovering between letting me go or finding out the truth. Finally, she nodded. And I practically ran out of the kitchen.

My new bedroom didn't have a lock. I pushed a suitcase in front of it, backing away and tripping over my own feet to collapse on the bed. Memories were coming back the harder I tried to shut them out, slipping like water through tight fingers. With my eyes clenched shut I burrowed my head in my arms, trying to stop my past from coming back through.

* * *

_"Louise, go get ice cream." Jason whined as I got out._

_"Fine," I took the money mum offered me. "I'll be back soon!"_

_I ran to the little shop next to the petrol station, digging out the ice cream from the freezer and skipping happily to the counter. I felt like such an adult._

_The lady at the counter smiled at me as I placed them on the counter. "That'll be two-thirty, honey."_

_I painstakingly counted out the coins and asked for a receipt politely, feeling mature. By the time I got my change back I was itching to go back outside, the sun hitting the side of my head as I skipped jauntily towards the exit._

_I was so carefree, so full of happiness._

_I've never been that happy since._

_The exit doors slid open as I skipped forward, my left toe suddenly caught in my other foot as I fell onto the hard concrete. The ice creams fell to the ground as I cried out in pain. A shout made me look up so see my dad make drop the petrol pump on the car, the automatic handle spurting oil across the back window and trunk before dripping onto the ground and spreading. As he started to walk towards me a red car passed the station. In slow motion the window opened, and a cigarette butt was casually flicked out._

_Onto the waiting petrol._

_The fire flared, impossibly quick and hungry. My father's right side caught flame and he screamed and thrashed to get the fire off. I started screaming, struggling to get up. The fire reached the first petrol booth, and after a couple of smoke filled seconds, exploded._

_The explosion caused the other one to explode, and in fear I scrambled up, sliding on ice cream and falling again. The automatic door slammed shut on my hips, and I screamed in agony as the metal cut into my skin and cracked my hip. Another explosion seared the souls of my feet and sent the whole shop shaking. I began to crawl away from the fire, pushing back anything in my path. People were screaming and running, getting into the way in a haze of smoke and fear filled voices. But I kept on crawling._

_The exit door stood before me, and I feebly pushed it open. People ran around me, and then I was rolling over and over, before hitting something hard before it collapsed. Whatever I rolled into creaked then broke, and then I was rolling down a dirt hill, crashing into bushes and trees and thorns. A tree trunk loomed and smacked into my head, silencing my screams as I blacked out._

_I was found by the police at the bottom of the hill a few hours later, with tears silently streaking down my cheeks and blood dribbling from my hips. I didn't speak. I didn't move._

_They were dead._

_I was dead._

* * *

The room was dark and gloomy, my bedside light still on. I must have fallen asleep. Tears were still trickling down my face – I rubbed angrily at my cheeks. _Stop it. You're not 11 anymore._ I crawled under the covers and then went to turn off the light.

A sudden fear gripped me. _I didn't want to be left alone in the dark._

A childish fear is a strange sort of fear. It never leaves you, only adapts into variations your mind can't control. It wasn't the dark that scared me. It was the faces I saw in the shadows, blaming me with their hollow eyes.

I left the light on all night.


	2. Rebelistic Tendencies

**2nd chapter, edited 9/6/13.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Very static Australian radio woke me up the next morning, the presenter beginning his late night shift. Snorting at how this would usually send me to sleep, I lunged forward and switched off the alarm before it could get any louder.

5.23AM. Emily mentioned during dinner that I'd be going to school today.

Rolling out of bed, I pulled on leggings and a bra under my vest, swopping it for a stretchy one. Pulling up my hair into a tight ponytail and grabbing my iPod, I made my way quietly downstairs. The living room with wide and open – good for dancing in.

I flicked through my iPod until I found the special songs I was looking for, under the playlist Morning Ex.

Disturbia was on first. I raised my hands above my head and then brought them down too touch my toes. After repeating that for a while I stretched my arms and loosened my neck, before eventually sitting down and stretching my legs. After I was thoroughly loosened up and stretched out, the song automatically switched to a more relaxed song.

Send me on my way by Rusted Root calmed my pulse. I instantly began belly dancing, swinging my hips and raising my arms above my head. I didn't know if I was belly dancing or hula dancing – someone told me it was a mix of both – and I enjoyed the music as it swelled in my veins and made me feel peaceful.

Suddenly, it started speeding up, moving to the next song. Tango. I let out a grin and spun around my imaginary partner, my face turning into a fierce snarl as the dance became more than just a dance. My partner was my prey, I was the predator – my moves became furious, aggressive – I was the strong female, the man just the toy…

I blinked as the music changed, and I sat down on the floor, stretching my legs. Wow. I haven't got that focused on my morning tango for weeks. Closing my eyes, I slowly stood, stretching my arms out on either side. I starting pirouetting around the room, stopping to do a glissade and put my hand on an imaginary bar, going through all the barre exercises in my mind and letting my body copy them. I did a bit of center work before stopping when the music changed.

My mouth tilted upwards.

Street dancing.

I loved to street dance. Basically, it's the art I can express myself best in. No limits, no rules – just your imagination and the music.

I started flicking my feet and waving my arms, the scene in Step up 2: The streets coming to mind. I remembered it, and let the fast beat fill my body and take it. Just as the song ended I opened my eyes, stumbling in surprise when I saw Sam standing by the doorway.

"I never knew you could dance."

His tone was neutral.

I was embarrassed, and rightly so. He didn't have a right to gawk at me while I did some exercise. Humming in reply, I grabbed my things and ran upstairs, having a quick shower and throwing on the first set of clothes that came to hand. After leaving my hair to dry naturally and flicking some mascara on, I lifted my jacket off its new hook. It felt unnaturally heavy to shrug it on. I was used to lighter jackets, not heavy winter clothing.

Emily was waiting for me downstairs. I stiffened when she handed me a brown bag. "Here's your lunch, Louise."

I gritted my teeth as her image wavered, her scars disappearing and her eyes turning blue before Emily reappeared. I didn't need memories of my dead mother popping up. I made sure to take it politely and return her smile.

"Thank you."

"One of Sam's friends, Jacob, is driving you to and from school till your motorcycle gets here." Emily called to me as I walked out of the front door. The sky was overcast and grey, completely opposite to the sun I left a few days ago.

A fine mist began to fall; encouraging the smell of wet wood and damp leaves. I missed the smell of eucalyptus and dry grass, not wet moss and pine.

I was actually homesick. Go figure.

A deep rumbling interrupted my thoughts. A small rabbit came trundling up the drive, grinding to a halt. The figure who stepped outside of it was fit – in more ways than physically healthy. He'd probably be described by one of my regular customers at my mechanic store as "drop dead waggle eyebrows hubba hubba" fit. He had dark skin with short black hair, with brown eyes. And he was huge, with bulging muscles. I wondered briefly if he took steroids. Yet, even as I carefully analyzed him, my hips swayed to one side and my fingers trailed up to twirl a strand of hair girlishly in my fingers.

"Hey," He greeted me carefully. "You must be Louise."

I held out my hand in return. "You must be Jacob. Nice rabbit. Did you fix her up yourself?"

When his hand touched my skin I jerked my own hand away. "Christ. You and Sam ought to get checked out by a doctor."

Jacob didn't notice my reaction. Instead, he stared at me like I'd won the lottery. "You fix cars?"

"Motorcycles are my specialty." I repeated, remembering last night's dinner conversation.

If possible, Jacobs grin grew brighter. "You're free to use my garage anytime you want."

"Thank you." I was touched by his offer. I'd been fiercely protective of my small garage – back when I had one. As he drove me to school Jacob chattered away, drawing responses out of me as easily as breathing. I felt almost safe in his small car – away from prying eyes, having good banter.

When he asked about my family, I went very quiet. I guessed Sam and Emily hadn't told him yet.

"They're not around anymore." I said shortly. And that was the end of that conversation.

We drove up to what I first thought was another part of the reservation – instead it was the school. It was a lot of buildings all clustered together in a scattered way. I saw a lot of dark skinned and black haired people, and inwardly sighed. I wasn't dark skinned like Jacob was – just tanned. And I had blue eyes. Meaning I stood out like a sore thumb from the rest of the Quileute population.

I felt everyone's eyes on us as Jacob led me to the main office, greeting the woman with a nod. She gave me my schedule then turned back to her computer, muttering about catching the last sale of some shop. Sighing, I turned back to face Jacob, who was staring out of the window with a distant expression on his face.

"Earth to Jake? Hello?" I waved my hand in front of his face, actually having to stretch up to do so.

"What? Oh, sorry. Here, I'll walk you to your first class." Jacob took my schedule before doing a double take. "Hey! I have first and fourth periods with you."

In the hallways, whispers followed me like bushfire. I received a lot of brown-eyed stares, along with several blatant hostile glares which surprised me. Maybe the Quileute's didn't like strangers.

I snorted under my breath as I saw my first period teacher. He was a short man, smaller than me, with glasses and white bushy hair. He looked like the typical mad scientist than a math teacher.

"Miss…Uley, am I correct?" He spat at me.

I resisted the urge to wipe his spit off my face. "Redwood, actually." I couldn't help it. I made a point of wiping the flecks of my cheeks.

"Mr Pingall, to you." He snarled. "Sit down, Redwood!"

My first ever lesson in America passed without much ado. Mr Pingall didn't notice me drifting off as he droned on and on about hypotenuses. I was thinking about this morning, and my natural instinct when I saw Jacob.

When I was fifteen, I wasn't making ends meet. I was going to get kicked out of my flat, regardless of it being paid for by Greg. So I got a job at the local bar, which I found out later was actually a strip club. I didn't tell Greg. I was offered triple for what I was already getting to become one of the backing dancers of the night acts. In other words, I ended up being a pole dancer/stripper. I've never taken off my underwear, only my top, and I've been a 34D since I was fourteen, so my boss was pleased.

My other job was to lure hot customers in that would pay for drinks and to see the acts, and that's where my instincts came in. After two years acting like a seductress and using my 'feminine wiles' to lure men, I quit the job. I've never had a real boyfriend, although I know the ins and outs of seduction. I wonder constantly if the real deal is as good as my imagination.

Next was English. Again I drifted off as Mrs White droned on about Bronte, and when the bell went I practically ran out of there, hightailing to it Music. I played around on the guitar as other people played with flutes and pipes, laughing internally as several guys came up to me.

"Yo." One of them went. "I'm Jack. This is David, and that's Colin. You're from Australia, right?"

"Yep." I continued strumming chords, ignoring them. They continued to pester me the entire class, and as the bell went for lunch, I sighed in relief as they left me alone. Finally.

As I followed the mass of students outside and opened the bag Emily gave me, a warm hand landed on my shoulder.

"Louise?" Jacob smirked at me as he saw my surprised expression. "What, you thought I was gonna ignore you? Fat chance. C'mon, sit with me and my friends."

I followed him as he led me to a bunch of similar looking guys with one or two girls, raising my eyebrow as they all stared at me. Most of them were dark skinned and black haired, all of them cut short.

"These are my friends." Jacob pointed people out as he said their names. "That's Quil and Claire, that's Jared and Kim, that's Brady, that's Collin, that's Paul, that's Seth, that's Embry…

I stopped listening, however, at the word Paul.

Paul was just like the rest of them. Dark haired, brown eyed, muscled, tanned… he was handsome, in a dark, brooding way. But it was the expression on his face that drew me in. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide, and filled with blazing emotion that was warm and cold and gooey all at once. He continued to stare even as I sat down and opened up my lunch again, putting the cheese and ham sandwich to my mouth.

Without warning, Paul stood and stalked away from the table towards the car park, ignoring the confused calls after him. He threw himself on this sweet motorcycle and gunned it out of there, disappearing in seconds.

Jacob touched my shoulder. I looked at him, confused at what just happened, yet angry because somehow, I knew it was because of me.

"Let me guess, he left the oven on." I took another bite out of my sandwich, surprisingly hungry.

"Sorry about that, Louise." I think, Embry? said. He offered me a smile. "Paul has…ah, issues."

Nevertheless, I didn't miss the meaningful glance they all shared after I put my head down. You learn to know when a secret is being communicated over your head, especially the first few months at a new foster home. So I calmly ate the rest of my lunch and listened to Jacob's friends talk around me, still staring at Paul's empty parking space.


	3. Lonely Feelings, Unpleasant Thoughts

**3rd chapter, edited 9/6/13.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and by uneventfully I mean intense, concentrated boredom. Paul didn't return. I spent the day accepting papers and textbooks, reminding myself to bring a bag in tomorrow.

Jacob was waiting for me in the car park, and as I reached the car he asked, "How was the first day of school?"

"Shit." I got into the car, ignoring his shocked expression. "What? Can't a girl drop a expletive these days?"

"No," Jacob got in and started the car, heading easily out of the car park. "It's just you don't seem to like school very much."

"I haven't gone to school in a year or so." I stared out of the window as I answered. His breathing stayed steady, but his silence was telling enough.

"Why?"

"I had to drop out to afford the bills." I replied sharply. I didn't want to talk about my past life anymore. I had had control of my memories, my dangerous thoughts. But everyone wanted to know my past, and I was starting to lose control my well-kept temper.

"But…" Jacob seemed to be having trouble grasping this. "But…what about your parents? Surely they were paying the bills, not you?"

I slammed my fist down on the dashboard, leaving a miniscule dent. "Shut up and stop asking fucking questions!"

My outburst frightened me, let alone shocked Jacob. We spent the next five minutes in stunned silence, shame on my part and awkwardness on his. When he pulled up at the start of the long drive I gathered my books and murmured, "Thank you." I then ran out of the car, bursting in the front door like a startled kangaroo.

"Louise? What's wrong?"

Dammit. I heard her rustling in the kitchen –_ cooking again? Who is this women feeding, the whole population of Forks?_ But I couldn't face her yet. Not in my current mood. I threw my books onto my bed and grabbed a jumper from the drawer. On my way out I called back, "Nothing – I'm just going for a run! Bye!"

As I trotted outside I saw a well-worn path leading into the woods. My legs moved on their own and took it, pumping furiously along the dirt trail. I ran faster and faster along this path, my vision becoming a tunnel of green and brown. I thought I heard someone call my name, but I pushed myself forward, wanting to leave everything behind. I finally noticed how fast I was going and tried to slow down, the trees blurring with the tears in my eyes.

And then my feet hit sand and I tripped and fell, rolling over and over and over getting sand in my mouth, my hair, my ears. When I finally stopped rolling and stared up at the cloudy sky, euphoria bubbled up inside me, and I started to laugh. What started off as a chuckle turned into a fully-fledged belly laugh, and soon I was clutching my stomach, tears rolling down my face as I laughed out the fear and useless anger I'd experienced over the past few weeks.

I came down from my weird high and back into reality as I realized how dark the clouds were. Wow. I didn't notice how much time had gone past. I sat up, realizing I was on a beach. It was quite a nice beach, actually, stretching further than I could see.

I stood, stumbling a bit as a gust of cold wind whistled through the trees and threw my hair in disarray.

"Damn." I stared back at the darkening path, wondering if I should follow the beach or take the path home.

A rumble of thunder made my decision for me. I dashed for the cover of the trees just as the rain began to fall.

Running in a forest with night falling and no light to guide your way? It's terrible. I can't count the times I fell over a stupid log and then scrambled into some ferns. By the time I saw the lights on Emily's house I was wet, tired and extremely pissed off at nature.

Before I could even open the front door Sam came striding out, his dark eyes flashing and his muscled form towering over me.

"Where have you been?"

Sliding past him and to an upset looking Emily, I smiled and held up my hands as if to say, 'guilty'

"I went for a run. I'm sorry I worried you; I was out longer than expected."

She accepted my apology gracefully, nodding her head and sighing with relief.

"What trail did you run on?" Sam demanded. He was still breathing heavily, and I noticed he was shaking. He grabbed my shoulder as I attempted to walk up the stairs, and that's when I lost my temper.

I do _not_ tolerate being touched without my consent.

"Get _off_." I shrugged his hand off, an intense fury boiling in my blood. Jeeze, he _still_ had a temperature? "I can take care of myself."

"Clearly." Sam didn't sound just angry. He sounded pissed. "You being shipped here is a great example of you looking after yourself."

"I was doing fine before they got in the way! What makes you more superior than them?"

"I'm your legal guardian, that's why!" His voice boomed around the small area, making me jump. He swung his arm and pointed to the stairs. "Now go to your room and _stay there!"_

I glared at him before turning and stalking up the stairs, heading into the bathroom. To hell with my room. I threw off my clothes and turned on the shower full blast, and as hot as it would go. I stepped in and slid the door shut. I was shivering, and it had nothing to do with being cold. Regardless of the scalding water my teeth started to chatter. I stood there under the torrent of water, hanging my head with my shoulders hunched, when a small whimper came from my mouth.

I slid down the wet wall onto the shower floor, curled up in a ball. I was breathing harshly through my nose, trying not to make a noise.

I've been looking after myself for so long; I don't know how to react to people telling me what to do. It's always been Louise Redwood; single, independent, tough. I hid behind my work and adopted a reliable and aloof persona to avoid people. I ran if anyone got too close. I couldn't bear getting close to anyone after what happened to my family.

And then I was discovered. By a woman who asked me if she could see my birth certificate at the hospital when I dropped the hood of a car on my hand. After that I was given limits, instructions, rules.

And I hated it.

Coming here, I was angry. When I met Emily yesterday I tried to shove away the feelings of guilt whenever I was nasty or short to her. She reminds me so much of mum. _My_ mum.

But I'm never telling her that.

Ever since I came here, I feel like I'm falling apart at the seams. Like the carefully constructed wall I built is being pulled down, brick by brick, by an invisible force. And I've only been here two days. I didn't want to get close to anyone. I couldn't afford to. If I lost them, I wouldn't be able to handle it.

But I yearned for close friends. I yearned to have someone to talk to, to confide in, to chat aimlessly to during the day. To hold me while I cried. To be with me at my proudest moments.

I let out a small cry and buried my face into my knees, my tears hot compared to the freezing water thundering on my back.

I wanted my family back.

But that was never going to happen.

* * *

**Paul POV**

_Well. This is just fucking perfect._

I imprinted on a teenager from Australia. A stranger. A silent, brooding, attractive stranger.

But I wasn't prepared for the irrational surge of protectiveness that went through me when I looked into her blue eyes…eyes that matched the sea perfectly during the summer when the sun shines through the waves.

_Damn it, stop it!_

I am not going to change my ways because of an imprint. There's gotta be a way to end it. I won't be like Quil or Jared, who gave up every other girl for their imprints.

I was also scared. I didn't know how to handle this. I wouldn't. I couldn't. She was a stranger – I hardly knew her.

When I saw her today, everything stopped moving. She was staring at me, her light blue eyes narrowed in unconscious thought as she was being introduced. Emotions shot through me so fast I barely had time to decipher them. Everyone else faded away into nothing, and she shined in the darkness like a beacon, my light, my sun. The centre of my universe. I instantly knew I had to protect her, be there for her, and make sure she was never harmed. The werewolf side of me rejoiced. I found my soul mate, my true love.

But my human half was horrified.

_Hell to the no._

The minute I reached the small cottage I shared with Embry I threw the motorcycle on the wall – possibly damaging it in the process – and phased. My thoughts and emotions were everywhere, chasing each other in empty circles. _No. No. fucking NO!_

I didn't want to imprint. I didn't want to be tied down to one person, to be shackled so quickly. I had a new girl every week, and revisited ones I liked.

When the light began to fade and I realized I had been running in the forest for hours, I phased back and started walking towards the house.

I may have imprinted on Louise Redwood – but I was sure as hell going to end it. Somehow.

Inside, my wolf whined and grunted, as if to say, _good luck._


	4. Races and Tender Moments

**4th chapter. Edited 9/6/13.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

For the rest of the week, I stayed mostly to myself and settled into an uneasy routine. Every morning I got up and went downstairs, going through my dance exercises like a robot. I went to school, and at lunch sat with Jacob and his friends, offering snide comments every now and then. I went out for a run to the beach every day after school, and came home to dinner. I'd attempt my homework before giving up, spending the evening dancing or playing my guitar.

Nearly every night the whole group of boys from came to Emily's house. I never went downstairs to join them, and only ventured down once to get a glass of water.

And I still remember, out of all the eyes that were on me, there was one hot gaze that I couldn't avoid, and for one second met that hot gaze. I swear I turned to jelly before I came to my senses and ran up the stairs.

Emily was always unfailingly nice to me, whereas I knew Sam had troubles adjusting to a 17–year-old in the house. I stayed out of his way mostly to avoid a fight – dinner was a quiet affair, with Emily asking questions about school, or me asking her about life on the reservation. I would hate Sam if I hadn't of seen the love he has for Emily – he puts her above and beyond any of his needs, and once I walked in and he was giving her a foot massage after she'd had a hard day of gardening. I'd excused myself and went upstairs, but the unconditional love I'd seen made me uncomfortable. So I treated him nicer after that. He _was_ putting up with me after all.

My motorcycle arrived in the middle of the week. After inspecting it for any flaws or scratches I signed the piece of paper that they wanted me to sign, and took my baby out for a ride. I explored La Plush then explored Forks, which was slightly bigger than the reservation, but not by much. It was hard to adjust to driving on the other side of the road, but I managed. Just. I think I broke about fifty traffic laws, but I didn't care. It was just me, my bike and the road.

Sam was spitting fire when I came back, roaring about how I could 'hurt' myself and that I should have told him or Emily where I was going, but I ignored him. After putting it in the garage I went to bed, curling up with my earphones plugged firmly in.

As I came home that Friday and parked my motorbike, I met Sam in the living room.

"You need to get a job." He stated bluntly.

I stopped and stared at him before continuing my way up the stairs. "Hey. How are you? I'm fine thanks. No, school was boring. Nice to see you too."

Sam was shaking when I came back down, dressed in my running clothes.

"You will find a job this weekend." He practically snarled. And to my shame I think I cowered.

"Fine." I snapped, before running out of the door.

On Saturday morning I woke up early, and after my dancing session got ready for a cold drive to Seattle. I didn't know it well, and as I got ready I deliberated asking Jacob to come with me.

Ever since our little spat in the car, Jacob has maintained his friendly demeanour – for reasons unknown. But I was grateful to him, grateful I didn't have to sit alone at lunch.

Because that would truly be sad.

Making up my mind, I went downstairs and poured myself a bowl of cereal, eating it as quickly as I could.

"Hungry?"

I jumped and spun round, my arms raised up in defence before lowering them. "Jeeze, way to give me a heart attack." I grumbled, turning back to my cereal. "It's eight in the morning. Why are you here so early?"

Jacob walked around to the opposite side of the counter. "Heard you needed to get a job. I was wondering if you wanted to work in my shop."

"Your shop?"

"Mechanic."

"Ah."

I chewed thoughtfully, thinking it over. "Maybe. If I don't get special treatment."

"Sure. I mean all you'll be doing is answering calls and stuff and–"

"What?"

I dropped my spoon, making Jacob jump. "You want me…to be your bloody receptionist?"

Jacob rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Well…yeah…"

"Then no thank you." I declined his offer with a clatter of dishes in the sink, grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair.

"Where you going?" Jacob asked in confusion.

"To Seattle." My words sounded snooty, and I ignored him and I got my motorcycle out from the garage. I threw a leg over, turning the key.

"No! Not by yourself." Jacob suddenly was beside himself, gripping his hair and his other hand hovering over my arm.

"…..excuse me?"

"No." He repeated. "It's not safe. Wait ten minutes and we'll go in the rabbit..."

"No!" I slapped his hand away – this is getting ridiculous, how long can one run a temperature?!

"Why isn't it safe? Big bad wolf is gonna eat me? Not a chance."

And with a dramatic rev of the engine I was shooting past Jacob and hurtling down the Uley driveway, my tires screeching as I turned the sharp corner. As I drove out of La Plush, attracting stares and envious glances, I tuned them out, turning on the road towards Seattle.

There was a slight drizzle of rain, and I regretted not wearing a helmet. The water drenched my hair and sent it sticking uncomfortably to the back of my neck – a drastic difference to what happened in Australia.

"Aw, man." I whined childishly as I realized I was in a traffic jam. Pulling my bike into another lane, I noticed a little dirt track, with a signpost stuck deep into the mud, labelled _Back road: Seattle_. _120 miles._

Glancing at the line of cars ahead of me, I pulled into the lane just as a silver Volvo did. I braked sharply, glaring at it, when I noticed the track didn't have a white parting line.

In fact, it looked like a…a race track.

Glancing slyly at the Volvo, I tensed my hand on the accelerator, a demonic grin spreading across my face.

Almost at the exact same time, the Volvo lunged forward just as I did, matching my speed. I tossed some hair of my eyes just in time to see a bend to curving to the right. A loud whoop erupted from my lips as I yanked my handlebars to the right, hugging the curve in such a way I had to put my right leg out to skim the dirty ground. As I straightened up, I noticed the Volvo was nowhere to be seen.

As I looked forward, my mouth dropped open.

There in the distance, driving along, was the Volvo.

Adrenaline pulsed through my veins as I accelerated, dust swirling behind me in a storm. We raced each other all the way until the end of the road, and when we stopped I realized it was a tie.

"Nicely done." I murmured, knowing the person couldn't hear me. "Until next time, stupid shiny Volvo owner."

* * *

Seattle wasn't as big as some towns I'd been in – but it was still scary. I went along the main streets, looking for job vacancies and such, before giving up after a few hours. I was never going to find a job. Ever.

I stopped for lunch in this small secluded café, where two men sat behind me discussing something in low voices. I ignored them and ate my toastie, but what they were saying cut into my thoughts.

"We need to get a dancer now!" One of them hissed. I named him Bob.

"They liked Tania. Now she's gone, that's half the acts gone already! What do we do? We need to–"

"Shut up, Bob." The other snapped. Whadya know? His name _was_ Bob. "We'll just up the girls' acts. We can't get a dancer – a good one – on such short notice. It's ridiculous."

I cocked my head to the side. They needed a night dancer? _Hmmm…_

Half an hour later and a job secured, I straddled my bike, beaming. _Suck it, Sam!_

I hit the mall before I went home. I bought a few innocent looking outfits, knowing I could spruce them up – Burlesque style. Then I went to a hot dog stand and inhaled like three hotdogs – walking around an unfamiliar city sure makes you hungry.

The drive home was comfortable, relaxing…the calm before the storm.

When I walked into the door, Sam was there.

He pointed to the living room. "Sit."

I sat, putting my bags on the floor. "What's up?"

Sam gritted his teeth. "For the next few weeks, I need you to take one of the …people I know with you to work."

I stared at him before snorting. "Hell no!"

The thought of Jacob watching me strut my stuff with a pole made me want to throw up. I'd have to take the embarrassing way out of this.

"Look, Sam." I took a deep breath. I couldn't believe I was doing this. "I know…we don't like each other. Me with the fact I don't like authority that well, and you have this instinct to dominate and have people obey you, like some alpha or something…" I saw his eyes widen. "But I can do this by myself. I'm seventeen. Nearly eighteen. Please put some trust into me."

Sam ran a hand over his face, obviously frustrated. He sighed, folded his arms, and glared at the wall. After a while, he spoke.

"Fine." It was a quiet submission. "But try to be a bit nicer to Emily. And you're coming along to a bonfire this week."

I saluted him. "Aye aye, capt'n!"

He rolled his eyes. "Girls." He muttered.

I rolled my eyes and stood, grabbing my bags and sweeping towards the stairs.

"Men who have permanent sticks up their asses." I sighed, before racing upstairs, giggling. I heard Sam growl, before a slight chuckle could be heard. I grinned.

Tender moment officially over.


	5. Confusing Surfaces

**5th chapter. Edited 9/6/13.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"What are you wearing?"

I spun round to face Sam, cursing under my breath. I had hoped to escape to Seattle for my new job while he and Emily were watching a movie, but like every other time I'd tried to slink out quietly, he'd always be waiting by the kitchen doorway.

"Um…a dress?" I picked at the edges of my outfit, avoiding his gaze. "This dress was on sale, so I bought it. It's hot in here, so I thought I'd try it on and go for a walk."

Sam raised an eyebrow at me. I raised one back. What was his point?

He turned away from me and walked over to the window, throwing aside the curtain.

Ah.

It was raining. And not just drizzle raining – close to thunder and lightening raining.

"Well…" I started up awkwardly, calling him all the nasty names I could think of in my head. "I'll just go upstairs and change."

"Aren't you supposed to start work soon? At that café?" Sam questioned. I bit back a grimace. I had told Emily and Sam that I had gotten a job at a café. No need to mention I worked at a strip joint…

"Yes…" I hedged, edging up the stairs. "I need to change…so…bye!"

"Wait!" Sam called, and leaned on the banister. "This is your first night shift at a job, yes?"

"Yes." I nodded seriously, hoping he wouldn't hear the lie in my voice.

"Remember, if you feel tired, have some coffee. And remember to keep the door at the back locked."

Again, I moved my head up and down, trying to appear grateful for his 'helpful' advice before dashing into my room again. After changing into waterproof clothes – damn you, stupid man on TV who said the weather would be nice today! – I fled out of the house, gunning my bike loudly and peeling out of there.

Hmm. There's beginning to be a pattern to my leaving habits.

* * *

The roads were slippery, and dangerously so. Sadly the Volvo wasn't there to race again, but this time I stayed on the main road. Better not tempt fate by going on the narrow dirt roads.

By the time I got to the club at seven I was soaking – but the good thing was, I had an hour to get changed and to do my makeup. I was only on for a few acts, so I didn't have much to do. I asked if I could do an act by myself, but Bob told me he wanted to see me dance before making any decisions.

I made my way to the changing rooms and had a quick shower in the cubicle sized bathroom before drying out my hair and throwing it into a quick bun. I'll deal with it later.

After moisturizing my body with some cream I slipped into my outfit – if you could call it that. I then focused on my makeup, drawing dark lines of eyeliner around my eyes and using dark eye-shadow to extend my already wide eyes into a cat-like look. After adding foundation and a hint of blusher I plumped up my lips with shiny lip-gloss, before turning my attentions to my hair.

Hmmm. Sleek, or tousled?

I decided to go with the tousled look, grabbing a nearby curler and adding loose curls. I scrunched my hair up using some gel I found, running my hands through the layers. Finally, I buckled up my hilariously high heels, wobbling a bit before I centred my balance.

Ah, memories.

After grinning at the pole dancer in the mirror I walked out of the room, intent of finding the waiting room behind the stage.

The girls were nice enough, which is always surprising. You always expect to find whorish, sex fanatics when really; they're just girls like me trying to make ends meet. I felt another homesick pang, one for my old gang of girls at my old club, before I swept it away under a big smile at the girl next to me. While we waited at the side of the stage for the men to finish dancing (for the ladies) I started talking to a girl called Chloe.

"You're from Australia, right? I can tell." She flashed a bright smile at me.

"Born and bred." I smiled back. "Do you like it here?"

"Oh, yes." She assured me. "They pay's good, and they only have a few acts where someone gets naked. It used to be Tania that did that – she was real exotic, dark hair and skin, ya know? – but she left a week ago. Never found out why. She was a bit of a bitch, to be honest."

"A bit of a bitch?" A tall woman with amber eyes and red hair straightened from the stretch she was doing. "She were a bitchy whore who thought she was worth damn more than all of us put together. Ya'll hear what I'm saying?"

A few girls nodded and muttered their agreement behind me. I recognized the accent from the red head who had spoken.

"Texan?"

She turned back to me, her eyebrows rising. "Eh?"

I took that as a yes. "It's nice." I summed up simply.

I got a big smile for that one. "Why, you're a purty thing, ain't ya? Tell ya what – you can be my dancin' partner. I'm Tracey."

The lights dimmed, signalling us to assemble on stage. The lights were stationed facing the crowd, and as we struck up our poses on stage the music started.

We all moved in different dances of our own as we made our way slowly to the front. It was eerily similar how we moved, and I was hit by a sense of nostalgia as I remembered my old club. It wasn't the same, but it would pass. The cheering started as we suddenly danced as one, me trying to desperately copy the others. I had been given a sheet of dance instructions, but they were so unclear I just decided to wing it.

We reached the poles and I swung my leg around the closest one, keeping a close eye on Tracey next to me. The cries and hoarse shouts spurred me on, and I started grinning. Tracey caught my expression and she laughed out loud, doing a vertical splits.

"Having fun?" She shouted above the noise.

"Hell yeah!" I shrieked back.

The rest of the night went on in a similar vein, us all dancing then watching at the side-lines for individual acts. I longed to do an act by myself and show off, but I knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do.

When the night finally ended, I changed back into comfy clothes and took my heavy makeup off, revealing the tired looking girl underneath. I scrunched my messy hair into a high ponytail before putting all of my belongings into a bag I bought with me, saying goodbye to the others on my way out. I met Bob at the door, who smacked me heartily on the back with a smile.

"Well done. I was impressed."

"Thanks." I smiled back, feeling tired all of a sudden. "I need to get home – see you on Wednesday."

My work schedule was every three days, and considering it was Sunday night I didn't have to work for two more days.

The ride home was quiet and uneventful, with few motorists on the small highway. Surprisingly, it wasn't cold. Instead, a warm breeze ruffled my hair as I drove on in the night, a half-moon shining in the clear sky. My lone light lit up the Uley driveway as I parked outside, swinging my leg around and picking up my bag.

"What are you doing?"

I sucked in a breath and spun around, my bag held out in front of me as a shield. When I saw who it was in the half-darkness I scowled.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped.

Paul leaned against the side of the house. "The question is, what were _you_ doing, coming home at three in the morning?"

I was tired, and had spent an evening getting perved upon by old men. It was time for some payback.

"I had a hot date." I smirked, pulling my bag strap onto my shoulder.

Paul stiffened, and a low growl slipped out from between his clenched teeth. I raised an eyebrow at him, blatantly ignoring how much his husky growl affected me. "What? Does that bother you?"

"Yes." Paul looked angry.

Actually, I'm starting to think he has a mental problem. Probably Schizophrenia. Maybe I should send him some hospital leaflets?

"I was working at my new job." I rolled my eyes. "God, you're such an over-reacting jerk."

A furious expression crossed his face. "What?" He snapped, pushing himself off the wall and striding up to me.

I took a step back, and then berated myself for it. I wasn't scared, and told him so.

"I'm not afraid of you." I spat.

His eyes darkened as he loomed above me, his eyebrows furrowed in a line. "You should be." He thundered dangerously.

I grinned cheekily and patted his cheek. "Honey, I've seen cats that are scarier than you. Cheer up!"

And with a cheerful wink I left him fuming outside as I opened the door and closed it in his face.

* * *

That night, I dreamed.

I was standing next to a tall tree, watching a wolf and a pale stranger fight. The forest around me was filled with screams and laughter and wolf howls, and a little girl was singing a song. I couldn't name the song. It was clear to me, but I could make it out. The stranger laughed and pointed towards me.

"She doesn't love you. Give up."

The wolf turned to me, looking me straight in the eyes.

What I was wasn't animal. The pain and longing in its eyes was human, unbearably so. I looked back, the black eyes hauntingly familiar and real. I knew those eyes.

But I couldn't remember.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, searching its eyes desperately. "Who are you?"

The wolf let out a small whimper before closing its eyes, bending to the ground and letting its neck stretch out, offering its neck to the stranger. Surrendering.

"No!"

The words barely passed my lips before the stranger leapt upon the wolf, ripping him apart.

The nursery rhyme continued to weave throughout the trees, the notes tauntingly mournful.

* * *

**Sarah POV (A girl from La Push)**

Sarah relaxed in the bathtub, relaxing as she did so. The water jets embedded in the bath walls pounded her sore muscles, and she sighed as they gradually wore away the tension. Her day had been hard. First of all, her fifteenth birthday was last week, and she didn't feel fifteen at all. She had fallen out with her best friend and her grades were slipping. She had come home to an empty house, and had decided to spend most of the night relaxing in the bath.

As Sarah let her head fall back to look at the ceiling, she thought she heard a door close downstairs. _Nah. Both the front and back door are locked. _Then, Sarah felt a light pressure on her head, and a strange buzzing in her ears, before she shook it off and closed her eyes, relaxing.

The moving water around her naked body made her feel weird, like she was moving. Sighing, she cracked open one eye to reach for the soap…

And shrieked.

There was a face in the mirror. A pale, red eyed, beautiful face that captivated and terrified her.

And before she could even breathe her body started moving.

An invisible icy grip threw her left leg over the side of the tub. She shrieked, forcing against the invisible bonds, but it was no use. A hand clamped over her mouth to stop her screaming, and the face in the mirror grinned, flashing his snow white teeth.

"Relax." He crooned.

She was lifted plain out of the tub and dragged towards the mirror, where the red eyes held her gaze. Hours, minutes passed. Then he spoke.

"You will help me with a task." He spoke gently. Seductively.

"….who are you?"

The eyes flashed with mirth. And then the lips curved into a beguiling smile. "Let me show you." He murmured.

And then the world was lost in a world of hazy sighs and murmurs, and the self that Sarah once knew was left behind until the world slowly turned black.

"_I am now your eternal master. You will now do whatever I say."_


	6. Pants on Fire

**6th chapter. Edited 9/6/13.**

**Enjoy.  
**

* * *

"Look, it's been planned for a few days already." Sam sounded tired as he rearranged the couches. "Try to be nice. They'll be here for lunch and then we're all going to something special this evening – you included."

"What?" I demanded, a little uneasy at how easily I had been 'slotted' into group activities. Sam ignored my outburst and impatiently shooed me out of the living room. "Go help Emily."

Scowling, I stalked into the kitchen – and felt like I walked into a restaurant. Steak, a chicken roast, piles of vegetables, pasta bakes, pies, chips, dips, endless amounts of fizzy juice….

"How many people are we having over?" I sat down on a nearby stool, subtly snatching a bit of broccoli while her back was turned. She was like a bee; moving constantly from one pot to another to taste; turn off the hob, take off the stove, take something out the oven, pour gravy into here, season something over there…it was kind of disorientating to watch.

"Twenty." Emily said, rather offhand.

"But there's enough food for…for a wedding! I know I'm starting to eat a lot, but…seriously? Who's coming over?"

"The boys – and a couple of other friends. They all eat a lot." She sighed contentedly, wiping her hands off her apron even as her experienced eyes turned to what was in the oven.

I grudgingly slid off the stool and went over to the oven, adopting a 'do what you want with me' stance. "Do you need help?"

Surprisingly, she giggled at me before gently hitting me with a nearby towel. "Go to your room and hide. You'll know when everyone arrives."

As I waltzed out of the kitchen the front door opened and Jacob strode across the threshold – naturally both shoeless and shirtless.

"The hell, Jake?" I glared at his excess display of tanned skin. "Why don't you ever wear shoes or shirts?"

He jumped before looking at me guiltily. "Um…"

"He's weird, that's what he is." Embry walked in, the same state as Jacob. Behind him was Quil (thankfully fully dressed) who was being pushed inside by a small pre-teen around 13.

"Hey!" She bounced up to me, all smiles and girly enthusiasm. "I'm Claire! I've heard so much about you!"

"Are you all right?" I eyed her warily, even edging back a few inches. "You're awfully…um, chipper."

"She ate too many Smarties." Quil rolled his eyes and this time, pushed her in a direction. "Let's go play Mario Kart."

"Okay!"

I watched him sit down and sort out a controller for her, giving into her high pitched demands of wanting to the Princess Peach. A twenty something year old man is a bit old to be interested with a 13-year-old girl. There must have been some troubled look on my face, because Embry suddenly spoke into the silence.

"Hey, why doncha take a seat?" He proffered the nearest armchair. Noting with some satisfaction it was the most comfy, I gladly accepted his offer, snuggling into the deep cushions.

"Who else is coming?"

"Brady, Jared and Kim, Paul, Seth, Collin…"

I tried not to stiffen at the sound of Paul's name. "Cool." My voice came out composed and unruffled.

Success!

The front door flew open and bounced off the stopper against the wall – announcing to the household that the rest of the guests had arrived. Jared appeared, and held the door open for a giggling Kim to walk through. He then attempted to slam it shut, but it was caught by a tanned hand. Seth and his two friends walked through – Collin and Brady? – who raced for the last armchair. Thwarted by eachother, Collin and Brady started viciously wrestling over the chair – something I would have enjoyed immensely if the display of manly strength hadn't been four years my junior.

"Everyone's here, are they?" Sam thundered down the stairs, newly dressed, nodding to the greetings called out to him.

"Leah and Paul aren't here." Collin snickered. "Toldcha they're having a raging affair."

Quil punched him in the shoulder – from my perspective – quite hard. "Shut up." He growled.

"What?" Collin didn't get it.

Neither did I, actually. I focused on the unfamiliar name. "Who's Leah?"

"My sister." Seth proclaimed cheerfully. Was that boy ever sad? "She's a little busy tonight, so she couldn't come."

"Ah."

I fell silent. A few catious glances were thrown my way – too many, in my opinion. "I…I'll just go help Em in the kitchen."

As I entered the kitchen, I heard the front door open and close followed by what sounded like wrestling. I heard Collin cry, "Ow!"

Amid the jeers and laughter I caught a low rumble of a chuckle, a noise I somehow heard over the noise of the others.

Paul.

"Louise?" Emily's voice cut into my thoughts, and I shook my head, realizing with a start I'd sat down in a chair.

"Is lunch ready?"

Kim answered by nodding her head. "It is. Quickly grab a plate and fill it up – there'll be nothing left after the boys finish."

I did as she asked, and sat myself in a seat near the backdoor. Kim and Emily helped themselves to food while I stared in disbelief at the sheer amount of food there was. I just couldn't get over it. Claire came through at the sound of plates clanking and started chattering away, fitting in with the group of women more easily than I had in the first place. I stared at her some more – what was an 8 year old doing with a bunch of adults?

"Lunch!"

The noise in the other room stopped instantly, and what happened next was far too fast for me to really process anything properly.

Next thing I knew, most of the men were in the kitchen and sitting down – some were standing – and inhaling the food. Jacob somehow ended up next to me with Seth on my other side. I watched in morbid fascination as the food on the table slowly disappeared into gaping mouths, and after a good ten minutes of eating…there was nothing left.

However, the hair on the back of my neck prickled as I felt someone stare at me all of that ten minutes. It was strange how I knew it was him, even without turning around. I ignored it – no need to ass fuel to the fire.

I looked down…and smacked Seth's hand away from my plate.

"Hey!" I snapped in indignation. "You just ate enough food that Africa could survive on for a year. Paws off my lunch!"

The table erupted in laughter, and I jumped as Seth poked me in the side.

"Yea, Seth, you sandy haired mutt." Jared grinned, and I caught the sudden glare Sam sent him.

"Jared." Sam warned.

Wait. Why was Sam warning him? And for what?

"What?" Jared defended himself. "It's not like she kno–"

"Jared!" This time it was Jacob. "I challenge you to an Xbox game. Right now."

The petulant look on Jared's face disappeared. "Awesome. You're going down."

Everyone got up and gravitated towards the living room, even the girls. With a shrug I followed, and managed to nab a chair.

I watched the boys egg each other on, smiling every now and then to Jared and Paul's lewd comments. It stayed like that before a foul odour filled the air, and most of the guys pretended to gag. Collin looked at Brady and winced.

"I'm gonna ask you a rather…personal question, Brady. Did you fart?"

Brady shifted before sticking his tongue out. "…Well, what if I did? What are you gonna do about it? Huh? Huh?"

Collin smirked. "Sit in your vapour and stew."

"Boys." Sam's voice was a warning. "Stop it. There are ladies present."

He pulled Emily close to him for a hug. She was content to stay there for a few minutes before struggling to get up.

"I need to do the dishes."

"Don't be stupid." Sam pressed a kiss to her temple. "We'll do them later."

"But-"

"Later." He insisted, chuckling into her hair. She stopped struggling and snuggled into his side, now content to relax.

I leant back and closed my eyes, slowly drifting off into a light doze.

* * *

"Where are we going?" I whined.

Jacob laughed. "A secret meeting place."

"Oh! Are we going to our secret cave, Batman?"

His voice dropped low. "That means you're my sidekick."

"No way!" I laughed and sped past him. We were walking along a pretty beach. The sun had set, and everyone else was already at this secret place. I had stayed behind to empty my bladder, and no one waited – except Jacob.

Suddenly Jacob lifted me over his shoulder fireman style, and I shrieked in surprise.

"What are you doing?" I pounded my small fists by comparison on his broad back, but he kept striding forward.

"I'm gonna carry you there, sidekick." He snickered to himself.

I sighed and gave up. "So…what's at this secret meeting?"

I could feel Jacob grin. "We tell the legends of our people." He explained.

"Your people?"

"The Quileutes."

"Ah. You're not gonna tell me anything else, are you?"

"No." He smirked.

I huffed and craned my head to peer up the path, hoping to see where the hell I was being carried to.

The flames licked at the air, climbing higher and higher as the boys added more wood. A sudden whoosh of sparks exploded over the ground as Jared threw in a particularly large log.

_Fire_.

Every muscle froze and clenched as I saw the long flames flickering in the distance. I cringed against Jacobs back, sucking in a quick breath.

"Jacob, put me down." My words were rushed together, and too panicked for him to understand.

"What?"

"Put me down!" I struggled, but Jacob, thinking it was a joke, tightened his grip.

"Nope." He popped the p at the end. "I said I'd carry you here–"

"Put me down!" I strained against his impossibly strong arms, small whimpers escaping my throat. I felt the warmth at my legs, and let out an agonized wail. _"Let the fuck go!"_

"Louise?"

I started screaming and thrashing about in his arms, my breathing frantic. I could feel the heat, smell the wood smoke and burning wood. I tried to breathe, but all I could do was claw furiously at Jacobs back as I drew in lungful after lungful of smoky air. It sounded like an animal I'd heard a coyote tear apart once – except the agonized screaming was coming from my own throat instead. Above the noise I heard a hoarse shout, and I was wrenched from Jacob's arms and into anothers.

I shoved them aside and lunged from the fire, backing away as fast as my stumbling feet allowed. I tripped over my own feet and fell with a thump onto the sand. But I didn't stop moving. Sand flew as I continued to scramble away from the fire, agonized gasps wrenching themselves from my throat.

"Louise!"

I ignored the shout as I hauled myself to my feet and started to run, my pathetic whimpering echoing as I sped up the path. A rustle behind me followed by a light thunder of footsteps made me push my legs faster, but with no avail. A pair of scorching arms picked me up regardless of my screaming, and stopped.

The person murmured to me as I cried in real, honest to god fear. The thought of being dragged back to that bonfire, to be close to the heat…I started hyperventilating, and the person cradled me to their wide chest. I leaned in willingly, seeking comfort in the warmth. They rubbed my back and held me close, whispering soft things into my ear I'd never remember later. When I finally stopped crying and lifted my head of the damp chest, Paul's eyes caught mine.

"I'll take you home." He said gently.

He refused to put me down all the way to Emily's house, and even when I protested he opened the door with one hand and carried me up to my room. He sat me on the bed and bent down, untying my trainers.

To be honest, I was too tired to stop him. Too tired to worry, too tired to care. He took off my shoes, then my socks, then my jacket and my trousers. Leaving me in my underwear and big t shirt, he tucked me into bed, his eyes soft but his mouth set in a thin line.

"Goodnight, Louise."

"Wait!" With my eyes shut, I grasped the nearest body part (his elbow) the heat not bothering me anymore. "Tell Em I'm sorry."

I heard him huff in laughter and he gently removed my weak hand. "Will do." He hesitated…and then I felt his hot lips press to my forehead.

"Night, Lou." He whispered, before I heard him leave the room and close the door.

I fell into a dreamless sleep, exhausted from my episode. But the feeling of Paul's hot lips remained, and I was strangely aware of it even when I was asleep.


	7. Blind Devotion

**7th chapter. Edited 10/6/13.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**Sarah POV**

I stayed as quiet as I could as I waited for my mum to go out to the shops. When she slammed and locked the front door, I scrambled down the stairs and to the back door, escaping out to the back garden. I ran into the forest, glancing at my watch quickly. He never liked it when I was late. I ran faster until I was at the border of LA Push, and through the trees the _Welcome to Forks_ sign was visible.

"There you are." A voice purred from behind me. "I thought you'd forgotten all about me."

I turned around eagerly, my eyes lighting up. "Keith!" I exclaimed, running forward and hugging the figure before me. My saviour hugged me back, the coldness of his skin not bothering me at all.

Keith was my life, my whole existence. He appeared all those weeks ago in the bathroom mirror, and showed me how wrong I was about the world. My parents only kept me because I brought them child benefits, and the school only taught me because they were paid. My friends had abandoned me long ago, saying I was distant and cold. Not true. I was only like that because Keith said they talked about me behind my back, bitching about how ugly and boring I was.

"You're so beautiful," Keith told me. "I could sit and listen to you talk for hours on end."

The only thing he asked of me was to do little favours, like tell him what the gang of boys following Sam Uley were doing. I didn't know why he did that, but he had kissed me so sweetly after he asked, I couldn't help but say yes.

"How are you, my beautiful darling?" Keith let go and stepped back, looking at me like I was the only person in the world. "I missed you so."

"I missed you too." I stared into his ruby eyes. He said he had contacts. "And I found something about the gang."

"Excellent work, my sweetheart."

I sighed at the love in his voice. No one else would ever love me like that. Keith was the only one I could trust. "They...patrol." I made quotation marks with my fingers. "I don't know what it means, but the big one – Jared? Was talking about it to Paul. They do it in turns. Is this good for your project?"

Keith laughed and ran his finger along the curve of my face. "Yes. You are such a good help to me, Sarah, my love, my star. I need to ask another favour."

"Anything!" I responded quickly, like he'd not love me if I said anything else.

His eyes glowed. "I want you to find out who in this gang is dating, or married to. This is vital for my...project. Can you do that, my darling?"

"S...sure." I stammered. "But...they're really protective of them."

"Oh, I know." Here Keith's face twisted into one of pure hatred. "They love each other so much...soon, though. Soon they'll see."

"See what?" I piped up curiously.

Keith's face smoothed over to one of love. "Nothing, love. Alas, I must leave you now."

"Aren't we going to have some...private time, first?" I asked coyly, running my fingers over his hand.

He rejected me though. "Not today." He looked pained, like the thought made him sick. "I really must go. The same time, next week. I'll be watching you, love. Dream of me."

He pecked me on the forehead before disappearing, leaving me alone. I felt my heart break as I realized this, and a tear fell down my cheek. I loved him so much. And I was going to make sure he got his information – however weird it was.

* * *

**Louise POV**

I've been avoiding everyone for the past few weeks.

The minute I woke up and remembered what had happened, I made a vow never to let any one of them see me like that again. I got up, threw on some clothes and walked out the front door, ignoring the confused questions from Emily. I took my bike out for a long ride down the country roads, getting lost in the ever present trees around me.

I avoided talking to Sam if possible, and when everyone came over I sent myself to Seattle, claiming I had work. Speaking of work, I'd been put on bar duty for a month, because one of the staff had quit.

It wasn't that I was scared of them all – hell no. I just couldn't bear the questions they'd want to ask, the concerns they'd have for me. I wasn't a broken girl desperately clinging to the memory of her family. I was a strong woman who'd put the past behind her.

Or so I kept telling myself.

At school I sat with a different group of people; people that were nice, but not really interested in me. They let me sit with them and included me in the conversation, but apart from that, I was a stranger.

I refused to admit I was miserable. I had a job, a home and proper schooling. But I also had no one to talk to, and that in itself made the hours spent in my room unbearably lonely.

It was halfway through the third week of my self imposed isolation when the matter was taken entirely out of my hands.

I was doing my afternoon jog when suddenly a pair of arms flung me into the air and around their shoulder. I recognized them instantly from the heat as one of the La Push boys, and kicked furiously.

"Put me down!"

"Nope!" Jacob responded cheerfully. This reminded me of the bonfire night all those weeks ago, and I pushed it out of my head. When I was dumped onto the ground again I realised I was sitting on sand – meaning I was at the beach. I craned my head, realizing I was surrounded by the whole group.

"What the hell?" I demanded, standing up. "What do you all want?"

"We want to know why you avoid us..."

"Why you don't talk to us..."

"Why you pretend you have work..."

"Why you never help Emily anymore..."

"Why you don't even look at me anymore."

The last sentence was the only one that wasn't plural. It was obviously Paul. And as I looked into his eyes I felt the overwhelming urge to hug him. So I tossed my hair back in a haughty gesture, looking to the sky.

"The night you had the bonfire, I was humiliated. So I decided to have some time out. All of you want to ask me questions I don't want to fucking answer. I'll sit with you if you miss me that much...I'll talk to Emily again, too."

They all grinned as one. It was kinda creepy, to be honest.

"Awesome."

"Neat."

"So you'll help cook?"

"Cool."

"Finally."

"Can I go now?" I whined. I pushed my way out of the circle and walked forward. Glancing back, I realized they were following me silently.

"Stop that!" I snapped. "It's like...like being stalked by a pack of fucking wolves!"

For some reason, they found that hilarious.


	8. Cruel Confessions

**As I promised.....Half 11 still counts as Thursday night, yeah?**

**Enjoy**

**x**

* * *

I stabbed the chicken with my knife. It wouldn't cut into smaller peices!

"Die, bitch!"

I continued stabbing it, laughing maniacally.

Well, until Sam came into the room.

"Er...what ware you doing?"

"What?" I looked up, realising what he was talking about. "Oh! Um...I was just getting some...some chicken for myself."

An eyebrow rose. "Louise, that's a raw chicken wing."

"Eh...I was cutting it up to...to heat it up." Damn straight I'm the Queen of Lying.

"Have fun." He rolled his eyes. Just as he opened the front door, he called out, "Oh, Louise? You're getting a lift to and from work with the guys. It's Seth's birthday, and they're taking him out."

I dropped the knife I was holding, letting out a wailing cry as it scraped past my thumb. "_Motherducker!"_

I lifted the chicken breast before tiptoeing to the back door, letting out a small whistle. After a few minutes a small cat came running out of the bushes, meowing pitifully. I smiled and stroked it gently, handing it the chicken.

"Here you go, honey." I cooed. "Good girl...boy...cat."

If you tell anyone my heart turned to mush when I found that cat after work a week ago and took it home...

Well. You get the picture.

That night, I made the guys drop me off at the local diner, waving as I stepped inside. They were watching, so I made my way around the back as if I owned it. A waitress approached me, and I waited till the car was gone before answering her questions.

"Sorry! This guy was bothering me, so I ducked in here." I apologised.

"No problem, honey." She laughed. "Get lots of weirdo's round here."

"You bet." I muttered as I left. "Right. See ya!"

I snuck into my club, getting ready with apprehension in my stomach. Surely they wouldn't come here? I mean, there are dozens of other joints. This one wasn't that famous.

I was going along on that vein until my boss pulled me aside. "We've a group from the Quileute reservation – you and Chloe will be directly entertaining them."

I froze...then an idea flashed through my brain. "I have an idea!" I babbled excitedly. "Can we wear masks?"

He frowned. "...If it doesn't affect your performance...?"

"Yes!" I kissed his cheek. "Thanks!"

It was dark. The lights were flashing and the music was blasting from the speakers.

And they had arrived.

Little Seth looked adorable – and eager for a show. In fact, all of the boys looked eager. Well, save Jared. He looked miserable for some reason.

They sat at a table, calling for drinks. I nodded to Chloe and we both snapped masks on – I'd explained the situation and she'd agreed to help me out.

We strutted over, swaying our hips and pouting.

"Want something, boys?" Chloe's voice was deep and throaty, perfect for catching their attention.

She was the only one who was going to speak tonight. I was the dumb one – in a speaking sense.

"Sure thing, pretty lady." Jacob grinned. "How bout giving our birthday boy a show?"

"Love to." She swung herself gracefully onto the table and wrapped her legs around the pole, her eyes trained on Seth.

"I want that one."

I froze.

Paul's deep voice penetrated my state of calm, making me freeze.

"She don't speak much," Chloe explained. "But she's a damn good dancer."

"Lap dance right here, darling..." Paul winked.

Struggling to keep control of my thoughts, I joined Chloe on the table, keeping my eyes trained to his. We twisted and turned and touched, making his eyes wide and glassy. Then I moved from the pole and to his lap, undulating against his body and feeling his chest with my hands. I bit his ear lightly, rewarded with a small gasp. Then I got off him and pulled him off his chair, leaning up and murmured huskily into his ear, "Let's dance."

I dragged him out onto the dance floor, finding the beat immediately. He joined me, pulling me close and dancing low. I ground against him, wrapping a leg around his waist in order to pull him close. He was breathing harshly, his eyes fixed on mine. Then I put my hand down and barely caressed the jean covered space I'd been grounding on...

He threw me off him, stumbling back as if he'd been burned. He looked horrified and completely petrified as the same time. A 'sorry' flew past his lips – and then he disappeared, moving so fast my eyes couldn't track him.

I was standing frozen.

What...what had happened?

I felt shame prick at my conscience. Jeeze, you did so badly you drove him off! My inner voice yelled.

I returned to my friends, dancing with them all again. Seth was drunk and kept feeling Chloe up – and she didn't throw him off. I could tell she obviously liked him, and this was proved when she took off her mask completely and smiled at him.

I watched as his mouth slackened and his eyes widened, his hands tightening on her legs. She seemed equally lost in him, her lips parted and glazed gaze.

Then they were kissing like there was no tomorrow, leaving no room for thought.

The guys were high fiving and whooping – I didn't understand why they were so worked up.

Bob called me into the side room, his face excited. "Look," He babbled. One of my old dancers just popped in – she's gonna be working here again! She's brilliant – you'll meet her soon. But I'm afraid tonight you'll be allowed to go home early. That alright?"

"Sure!" I couldn't agree quicker.

I got changed and hightailed it out of there, heading for the diner I'd been dropped off at. I met the girl I'd been chatting to earlier and she gave me a free drink, allowing me to stay until my ride arrived.

Then Paul arrived, his eyes tired and his head low. I spotted him walking past the window and before I could stop myself, ran out and caught hold of his elbow.

"Hey." I said softly. "I'm...I'm on my break. You okay? Why aren't you with the others?"

His eyes bored into mine, searching for something I've no idea about. Then he seemed to slump, a tired smile gracing his face. "I give up." He mumbled quietly. "I just can't resist."

I frowned. "What?"

But he was already moving, grabbing my hand and dragging me inside. "Let's eat." He announced. "I'm hungry."

"That's a surprise." I rolled my eyes but followed him anyway, a smile on my face.

* * *

We talked about anything and everything. We chatted about school, favourite pets, songs, places, pictures...it was amazing. There was this side to Paul I'd never seen before...a lighter, happier side.

I liked it.

Until he asked me about my family.

"What happened too your family?" He asked me after a small silence.

My hands tightened on the coffee cup, an action his sharp eyes didn't miss. I sighed and stared at the brown liquid, trying to get my thoughts into order.

"I was eleven."

The words seemed to grate past my lips, unwillingly coming out into the open. He didn't say anything, just calmly waited for me to speak again. This helped me, as if his mere presence gave me strength.

"It was sunny. We were at a...a petrol station." I gripped the cup harder, closing my eyes. "I tripped and fell after getting ice cream for my brother Jason. My dad..."

The words choked, and then Paul's hand covered my own, helping me continue. "He...dropped the petrol. A passing car...cigarette...fire." I was shaking uncontrollably, the story coming out in one word sentences. "They...they burned, Paul." My words scraped past my throat, the flesh suddenly raw as I rasped them out. "Alive. Couldn't get out. I crawled..."

Past the people who were too scared about themselves to save my family. Past the cashier girl who screamed and cowered by the register. Past the sliding doors that slammed down on my hips, cracking the bone.

Falling. Rolling. Screaming. Dirt. Crashing. Stopping. Crying.

And waiting. Blank faces, police in uniform...dead. All of them. Sorry, little girl. Sorry.

Sorry doesn't cut it.

I don't know how much of that I said out loud, and how much I said in my mind. But he got it. Somehow, he understood. And as I sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, his arms secured themselves around me, and the burning heat that once scared me comforted me, keeping me sane. And when I finally calmed down, his lips pressed to my forehead, and I closed my eyes against the feeling.

_I give up. I just can't resist._

I felt the same.

* * *

**Review?**

**x**


	9. Drop Dead

**IMPORTANT**

**Hey guys. Long time no see, eh?**

**I realized a few hours ago that someone I know on FanFiction has actually used a few ideas in Wild Child and Untouched in their own stories.**

**I read them then compared them to my own - it isn't downright copying, but comparing them it's pretty damn obvious that mine have been copied.**

**Don't worry - i'm not going to stop updating 'cos of it.**

**It just hurts a bit, that's all.**

**I'm not going to name names - you know who you are, so _please_, at least change it.**

**ANYWAY!**

**I'm back, baby! And updating!**

**Here's an extra long chapter to make up for the time**

**Enjoy**

**xx**

* * *

I stretched to my right, wincing as the familiar strain shot through my left side. Taking a deep breath I allowed myself to – literally – feel the burn, and then righted myself to an upright position. A wave of nausea hit me, and I cradled my head in my hands, wishing for it to go away.

Ever since that night with Paul at the club, and I realized I liked him more than I first thought. I've been getting these headaches. Whenever I'm around him they ease away, but when I avoid him they return with a vengeance. I refuse to believe they are even remotely connected.

And in the meantime, I suffer.

Everyone's been acting so _weird_ these past couple of weeks. Even if I'm going for a run, Jacob or Embry or sometimes even Leah with run with me, claiming they need the exercise. At school I'm walked to every class, and even going to work they hang about at the cafe for a few hours, which is really annoying as I have to sneak out the back. I told the people working there that my dad was a high class businessman, and he had his henchmen follow me around. They were surprisingly helpful and after a few weeks banned Jacob from entering the shop.

Ha. Life is sweet.

Sighing, I get up and go outside, heading to the garage. My bike needed a clean.

Everyone around me is so tense. Usually I eat alone now, eating in my room. The whole group of people come along to Emily's nearly every night; scarfing down food then making me head upstairs so they can '_talk'_. It's so strange.

Paul and I have been making small chit chat since then. It's mostly riling each other up; but I have noticed – tell anyone else and I'll kill you – that I feel just that little bit better talking to him.

"I think it's awesome you've got your own bike." Paul's voice floated from behind me. I jumped; unaware of the fact he'd entered the garage while I'd been deep in thought. I was crouched over my baby (the bike, not an infant human, you retards) trying to clean the bloody footrests.

"Eh. It's decent." I grinned at him before leaning over my bike again, my face flushing red.

You. _Idiot_. You just smiled at him like some preppy cheerleader doing an advertisement for white teeth. I can _hear_ the slogan....

_And thaaaat's flashy!_

"What's flashy?"

I jump, looking up to meet dark eyes. "None of your business, dog."

He smirks, seemingly pleased with himself. "If I'm the dog, does that make you my bitch?"

"Drop dead."

"After you, dear."

"Go drown in a puddle."

"Ladies first!"

"Go eat Jake's cooking!"

"Urgh." I heard him dry retch before weakly admitting defeat. "You win that round."

"Of course. I'm fabulous." I attempt to wipe my hands on the dishrag I'd bought in earlier. So far I've managed to get grease all over my hands as well as dirt.

_Fuck a duck sideways with a bent spoon!_

"I need to use soap for this." I brush past Paul in the small garage, rolling my eyes. "Come on, loser."

I pirouette to the front door then moonwalk to the kitchen, snorting as Paul attempted to copy my awesome moves. "You suck at dancing."

"I do not!"

I smirked, squirting soap onto my hands. "Yeah, you kinda do."

"I don't!" He snarled. Oooh. Someone's angry.

"Nah, that pretty much proves it. You can't. Epic fail. Name a dance you can do."

I dried my hands before turning to face him, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

His face was red as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no words came out.

"Ha. I knew it." I smiled smugly as I darted past him, heading for the living room. There was silence after me, making my clear victory known.

"Ballroom dancing!"

I jerk to a halt, spinning on my heel to face him. "What?"

Paul looked so embarrassed; his face was stained a permanent red. "I…Emily made us take lessons for her wedding." He muttered at the floor. "The guy said I was good…"

I took pity. "I'm sure you are. I just took in your size and thought you were too big to be graceful."

I realized how bad those words were the instant I said them. Paul knew this, and leered suggestively at me. "Oh, you think I'm too big to handle myself?"

"It's not the size honey; it's how you use it. And judging by that fail of a moonwalk; you ain't got no skill, bruva!"

We were both in hysterics when Jared entered the house, his voice booming loudly. "Code Red!"

I watched as Paul transformed, the smile sliding off my face. The mirth faded from his eyes as he straightened up, his mouth pressing into a thin line instead of the open mouthed laughing he was doing a second ago.

I didn't understand.

"Code Red? What do you mean, Code Red?"

Jared realized I was there and his eyes widened. "Why aren't you at Sue's?" He demanded with his voice going strangely hysterical.

"My bike was dirty, so I stayed to clean it." I frowned at his worry. "Jared, what…"

"You _idiot_!" Jared snarled at Paul. He actually punched Paul hard in the shoulder, making him stagger back. "_He's_ in the fucking reservation, while _you're_ staying here, playing with engines? You moron!"

"I just wanted some time with her, okay?" Paul roared back, shaking and trembling and snarling back.

I was frozen, staring at the two. "Um….guys..?"

Their gazes snapped to me; two dark pairs of anxiety and anger. They looked back at each other before coming to a silent agreement. I'll never know how they did it.

"Louise, you have to stay here." Jared was at the front door in a second, scanning the area. "It's really important; you have to stay here."

"Do you think he'll come here?"

"Nah. Too many scents."

"You're right." Paul took me by the hand and pushed me upstairs to the bathroom, sitting me on the toilet. "Listen to me, Lou." He took my face in his burning hands, his eyes searing mine. "Whatever you hear, do not leave this bathroom. Stay here. Don't make a sound. We'll be back soon."

"Paul?" Okay. I'm a tough girl. I can handle buff men with knives or psycho killers with guns. But with the way they were talking, it sounded like…like there was a _monster_ out there.

I was scared. And it showed in my voice. His hard face softened, and he leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead, the heat calming me – if only for a second.

"Stay safe, Lou." He whispered. And then he was gone, the bathroom door slamming closed. "Lock it!" He called, and I heard him bounding down the stairs and out the front door, locking it afterwards.

A silence fell over the house.

My legs felt like jelly as I got up and locked the bathroom door, my hands shaking like mad. I curled up on the toilet seat and put my head on my knees, listening to the oppressive silence that pressed down on my ears.

I waited.

And waited some more.

I couldn't tell what time it was; the bathroom light didn't give me any clues. So I sat there for a couple of hours, slowly but surely drifting off to sleep.

* * *

A crash sounded in the house, jerking me awake.

I stared, terrified, at the door. Sometime during my nap, my legs had slid to the floor while my head had been resting on the ceramic tiles behind be. I stood up, scrambling to put my back against the wall, facing the door.

Something was moving downstairs, scrambling furniture and banging into walls. My heard thundered in my ears as I took shallow breaths, my throat closed up in fear. The thing downstairs stopped. I held my breath, waiting anxiously.

It was quiet.

Would I be clichéd if I added the phrase _'too quiet'?_

I released the breath I'd been holding, sighing softly. Still no sound. I shook off my death grip of the towel hanger and took a hesitant step forward, still listening. No sound.

Huh. Maybe it went away.

….you know, that's always the sort of clichéd line you'd hear in a horror movie right before the monster attacks.

I'd barely finished thinking that when a hand smashed through the door, reached down and crunched the lock in one go; crushing it up and letting it fall to the ground in dust. The door swung open, and the most horrifying person stood at the entrance, staring unblinkingly at me.

If this was the face of a monster, I wouldn't believe it apart from two things. It was an alabaster pale man with the most striking features; his tall frame owning the doorway. His clothes were rugged, but nonetheless fit him well. He wore no shoes, but his feet looked strangely clean.

If I hadn't of seen him punch through a door and crunch metal up with his hand, I still would have balked.

His eyes were a bright red; reminding me of those poppies to celebrate Australia Day.

I knew this guy wasn't human.

You would have screamed, too.

The scream hadn't even finished going past my lips before his hand was there, crushing my face. I struggled, eyes wide and heart in my throat as he leaned forward, showing white teeth.

Somewhere in the depths of my mind, I noted he looked like a shark.

My hands scrambled behind me, looking for a weapon, _any_ weapon. Ironically, my hand sank in a tub of bath salts.

Oh, how lovely. I was going to die with my hand smelling of lavender.

He suddenly snarled, releasing my face and snatching up my arms, dragging me out of the bathroom. My right arm had shot through the air and was held in front of his face as he yanked my legs through the bathroom door. It happened in seconds, and my hand released the bath salts as part of the original momentum.

They landed on his face; in his eyes and mouth. He snarled viciously, spitting out the melted grains and shoved me backwards – down the stairs. I managed to turn as the walls blurred on either side of me, and barely let out a small squeak before I hit the floor at the bottom, skidding and twisting and rolling (more like tumbling) over and over again until I hit the opposite wall. I stayed motionless for a minute, my whole being in shock.

Both of my wrists already had purple hand shaped bruises with my right wrist looking funny – a bit too far back for normal. I could feel warm liquid gushing from my smashed nose and all over the wall and floor. My knees were stiff with the left kneecap feeling distinctly loose. My jaw hurt; pain lacing through it every time I opened my mouth.

A roar thundered in my ears before a cold hand grabbed my hair and dragged me forward, swinging me into the air and letting go. I flew briefly before smashing into something glass above the fireplace, tumbling over the mantelpiece and landing with a cry on the floor.

I hurt so much. My body was in so much agony, _I want to die, someone, kill me…!_

Apparently, the monster could read minds as he lifted me up with one hand, slamming me against the fireplace mantelpiece. Ow.

His eyes fixated on the flowing blood, his mouth opening as he panted. I felt a sneeze coming and couldn't hold it in; nosebleeds make me sneeze. And so I did. All over his face. An extra blood clot dribbled from my nose, sliding down my chin.

He growled and darted forward; licking the blood clot off with his cold tongue. I froze in horror.

What kind of monster is this?

He kept lapping the blood off my face and neck; making small growls of satisfaction. He did it so quickly his head was a blur, and as I opened my mouth to scream his tongue swept past my lips, getting the blood off them too. I clamped my mouth shut again. With growing realization I realized where he was staring, and why.

There was no more blood on my skin save the blood coming from my nose. Which was the source.

I stiffened, staring at him in blatent disgust and fear.

He wasn't going to. No. That…that's disgusting, immoral….just _please_, no.

But he did.

Leaning forward he closed his mouth around my nostrils and _sucked_, scooping the blood directly into his mouth. I screamed and struggled, my whole mind and body recoiling in disgust.

_God no, please, EW! Oh fuck, please no!_

He sucked harder and to my horror I felt my lungs constrict. Fuck no! I opened my mouth, letting air back into my lungs.

He slammed my mouth shut with his other hand and kept sucking my blood out through my nose.

I struggled harder, screaming and fighting and crying, the hot tears running down my face. I was getting so dizzy; you know that horrible constricting feeling in your chest and head when you hold your breath? Like that, except worse. My eyes rolled back in my head as darkness overtook me, my heart beating wildly like bird wings in my ears.

_Thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud._

With my failing heart and shortening breath, I wrenched my jaw free and yanked my nose from his mouth, wheezing into his face. "Drop _dead_."

He snapped in response.

Behind him, the front door exploded clean off its hinges and spun halfway up the stairs, sliding down and jamming the bottom steps.

Enormous _wolves _entered the house; snarling, vicious teeth snapping, fur on end and burning eyes taking everything in. Whoa; I've gone crazy from blood loss. The monster let go off me. I hadn't even hit the floor by the time he had lunged forward, hands wide. I landed face first and stayed there, fighting to get my breath back. My nose wasn't bleeding, and I wished to holy heaven it would start again. My heart slowed down as I stayed there, immobile on the ground.

I heard the wolves fighting with the monster; occasionally a paw or a foot would thunder by my ear before sliding away. I heard the monster cry a shrill scream before the sound of plaster breaking and wallpaper ripping reached my ears. Howls went up in the room as I heard the wolves give chase, leaving me on the floor. But two stayed. I think.

_Wait…why am I hearing Paul's voice?_

"Louise…oh _fuck_, Louise? Can you hear me? Baby, answer me, _please_…"

I felt his hands gently cradle my head, trembling above my scalp.

"Don't move her, Paul!" Huh. That's Seth. "Her spine could be damaged."

Paul howled. My insides froze at the raw pain in his crying voice. "She'll be okay." He snapped fiercely. "She'll be fine."

"Paul – we can't move her until Carlisle gets here. I'll get her a blanket."

"What if she's…?"

I heard a smack. "Paul, use your senses for fucks sake, she's breathing and her heartbeat's strong."

I gave a soft sigh, meaning to laugh but having no strength. I felt Paul's hand on my face; gently, ever so gently, turning so my nose wasn't smashed against the floor. I had my left cheek against the laminate floor. Although my eyes were too sore to open, I knew he was right next to me, keeping me warm and safe.

"Lou."

For some reason, my eyelids fluttered, and as my eyes opened slowly he brushed away the hair from my face.

"Louise." He breathed in relief. "I'm here, you're safe. Help is coming."

I blinked slowly. My jaw was in too much pain to move.

"Oh god…" Paul stared at me. "Louise, can you move?"

I only blinked slowly.

"Blink one for yes and two for no."

I wasn't paralyzed – that I knew. But I was in too much pain to move. So I blinked twice.

He pressed his lips to my cheek, his tears running over my face in hot rivulets. "Help is coming." He whispered, stroking my cheek. "You'll be fine. You're safe."

With him stroking my cheek, I closed my eyes and fell into a gentle sleep.

* * *

**I give you permission to flame me for not updating so long**

**(drops to the floor and worships computer)**

**Please! Take this as a peace offering!**


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